The Beginning
by She's a Star
Summary: The day after their defeat of the troll, Hermione works up the courage to go start up a conversation with Ron...and so blossoms a beautiful friendship. :)


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The Beginning

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by She's a Star

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the product of the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing it to soothe my obsessive nature.

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Author's Note: JKR didn't really go into the specifics of how our trio got to know each other, so I did...for a certain redhead and a certain know-it-all, anyway. :) This takes place the day after they defeated the troll. Enjoy.

~*~

_Just go over there, Hermione. Just go over and sit with them. _

Hermione Granger tentatively glanced up from Hogwarts, A History and watched Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. The two of them were laughing about something as they bent over homework, quills hovering above the parchment. As far as Hermione could tell, they hadn't written a single thing yet.

_Quit being so stupid, Hermione. Just go over to them and ask if they need some help._

Sad as it was, the two of them were the closest things to friends that she'd ever had. Back in Muggle school, she'd been tormented endlessly for her perfect marks, not to mention her bushy hair and large teeth. No one had ever wanted to associate with 'Granger-the-Goody-Goody' (it was quite pathetic, really, that they couldn't think up anything better), and she'd pretended that it hadn't affected her.

But oh, it had seemed that things would be different at Hogwarts. She would be around people like her, people who she could be _herself_ around.

However, that had yet to happen. 

A loud, barking voice interrupted her rather pathetic stream of thought.

"Come on, Potter!" Oliver Wood said gruffly, marching over to where Harry and Ron sat. "Quidditch practice!"

"All right," Harry said, standing up. "See you later, Ron."

"See you," Ron echoed, watching briefly as Harry and the Quidditch captain left the common room before turning back to his homework. Hermione allowed her eyes to waver from her book to watch him. He appeared to be very frustrated: he kept scowling at the piece of parchment in front of him and muttering under his breath.

_Be brave, Hermione,_ she instructed herself. _You were apparently put in Gryffindor for a reason._

So taking a deep breath, she rose from her cozy armchair in front of the fire and marched over to where Ron Weasley sat, her ever-reassuring copy of Hogwarts, A History in her right hand.

He didn't look up when she arrived, and she stood there awkwardly for a moment before clearing her throat and asking, "Would you like some help?"

He looked up at her at once, brown eyes flashing a bit, and she was worried that he'd lash out at her. Panic immediately filled her...perhaps they weren't friends at all, perhaps nothing had changed, perhaps she had made it all up-

"Nah," he responded; he didn't sound cold, however. On the contrary, his tone was almost friendly. "I think I'm just going to give up on it for now. I've got all weekend."

Hermione, who had already finished the weekend's homework, was tempted to reprimand him about his laziness, but decided against it. Quite pathetic as it was, she was desperate to have at least _one_ friend at Hogwarts, and at the moment he seemed the most likely candidate.

"All right," she said tentatively. For a brief moment, he looked quite surprised at her response, and she felt a quick stab of self-satisfaction. 

An awkward silence hung in the air, and she felt her courage give way to embarrassment.

"Well, I'll just be going then-"

"No, stay," Ron argued, pulling out the chair next to him and gesturing for her to sit down. Feeling a pleased flush rise to her cheeks, Hermione sunk into it.

He studied her for a moment before asking, with a sort of wry smile, "You've probably finished all your homework already, haven't you?"

Hermione studied him blankly. "Why wouldn't I have it finished?"

Ron's expression mirrored her own; he looked rather bewildered. "Why _would_ you?"

"I like to have it out of the way," Hermione retorted defensively. "You'll probably still struggling with it on Sunday night."

"Touchy, touchy," Ron observed rather darkly, rolling his eyes. "Don't you know how to have _fun_?"

"Of course," Hermione shot back at once. 

"Really?" Ron asked, a bit haughty. "What do you do for fun, then? Read?"

He scoffed.

"_What_, exactly, is wrong with reading?" Hermione inquired, feeling anger begin to bubble up inside of her. 

Before she could stop him, Ron had leaned over across her and snatched Hogwarts, A History out of her hand. He flipped open to a random page and read an excerpt in a pompous, stuffy tone.

"'Since they were first set into place over a thousand years ago, the number of bricks in the Great Hall has been quite the controversial Hogwarts-related subject. Thirteenth headmaster Solus Marcidius passionately insisted that there were 135,282, while twenty-second deputy headmistress Regina DeLevine stubbornly repeated that there were 135,290. Whether this controversial subject is ever to be solved is one of the castle's many mysteries.'." Rolling his eyes, he tossed the book aside and announced, quite sarcastically, "Oh, yes, that's some fun stuff there." 

Hermione glared at him before snatching the book up from the floor and brushing it off with the sleeve of her robe. "You just happened to open to one of the less exciting parts," she informed him loftily.

Raising one eyebrow at her skeptically, he grabbed the book from her hands again and flipped to another random page. "'Eighteenth headmaster Fiddalus Fronski is best known for his penchant for knee socks, of which he was an avid collector-"

"All right, all right," Hermione snapped in annoyance, grabbing her book and setting it down on the table. 

"Let me tell you," he said seriously, sinking back down into his chair, "If you want some fun reading material, try The Adventures of Martin Miggs, The Mad Muggle. Bloody brilliant, those things are."

Hermione studied him for a moment before announcing, "I'll just take your word for it."

"Fine," Ron responded, grinning, "But believe me, you're missing out." He paused. "So, what do you like to read, besides everyone's favorite record of the history of Hogwarts?"

"Oh, lots of things," Hermione replied, a bit shaken. He didn't seem the type that would want to hold a conversation about books. "Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte..."

Ron studied her blankly, and Hermione paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm probably completely boring you-"

"Not _completely,_" said Ron. "I just haven't heard of any of them. D'you like any writers from our world?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I'm quite new to all this..."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," he said, "You're Muggleborn. Well, I think they know a few wizarding writers. D'you know Shakespeare?"

"Shakespeare?" Hermione repeated, awed. "Oh, I love him! My parents got my name from one of his works."

"Figures," Ron said with a half-smile. "He has so many bloody big words, Hermione fits right in."

She rolled her eyes.

"Anyhow," Ron continued, "He was a wizard."

"Really?" Hermione asked in surprise, her eyes widening. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe it! That's just fascinating, I-"

"He has loads of other writing besides A Midsummer Night's Dream and Romeo and Juliet and all that," Ron said. "Stuff that he didn't want Muggles to read...he has an excellent sonnet about Quidditch. I have it posted on my wall in my room."

Feeling a bit light-headed from the information, Hermione said, "Oh, I'd love to see it."

"I haven't got it with me, but I can remember bits of it," Ron said with a grin. Hermione noticed that he smiled quite often. "Something about 'Bludgers crashing in thy wretched skull' and stuff. It's fantastic."

"Sounds like it," Hermione agreed, smiling back. "Quidditch is so fascinating. I'd love to see a game."

"You haven't?" Ron asked, jaw dropping before he added, quite sheepishly, "Yes, well, of course you haven't. Sorry, it's just weird...people who don't know anything about all this."

Hermione shook her head. "I've only read about it. Quidditch Through The Ages was so fascinating. Have you read it?"

"Nope," Ron responded. "But Fred and George are always going on about it. It's like their Bible or something."

"What about Percy?" Hermione asked, quite sure she knew what his response would be.

Ron let out a short laugh. "Yeah, right. He's a Hogwarts, A History nutter like you."

"I expected," Hermione said laughingly. She paused for a moment. "What's it like, having three brothers?"

"Not three," said Ron, sounding a bit grim. "Five. Bill and Charlie have graduated already."

"Five," Hermione repeated, a bit dazed. "Oh my goodness."

"And a little sister, too," Ron added. "Ginny. D'you have any siblings?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's only me." She fell quiet for a moment before adding, "Well, I did have a brother before. Nicholas. He died before I was born."

Ron looked a bit awkward. "I'm sorry," he said weakly.

Hermione shrugged, trying to remain casual. "I never knew him. He would be thirteen by now. I wonder if he would have been magical as well."

"It's no fun," Ron responded, a bit glumly, "Having siblings here. Well, I suppose it's a bit nice, as I've got family and all. But they're all so bloody _brilliant_. And I have to live up to them, which is damn near impossible with everything they've done. I'd have to single-handedly save the world from completely destruction or something to be recognized in my family."

Hermione didn't even feel the urge to chide him for his bad language, something that she'd never felt before around any of her fellow Gryffindors. Instead she bit her lip and placed her hand awkwardly on his arm. She was at a loss for words, which was quite the odd occurrence as she always loved to sound as though she knew exactly what to say.

Ron studied her hand for a moment in silence, and she pulled it away, blushing.

"It's going to be fine," he said nonchalantly, shrugging. "It's neat here, you know? Really seems like magic."

"I thought you would be used to magic by now," Hermione said.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Not like this."

And for a moment, she felt strange...something that she'd never felt before, like sparks dancing throughout her veins. It was a perfectly normal comment, nothing extraordinary, and yet it struck her as something important...something that would mean much more in years to come.

She inwardly shrugged it off and said, "Yes, well, I'm excited to be here as well. There's so much to learn and see and find out about. And then...well, I never had friends back at Muggle school, not really. But now there's you....and Harry."

"Yeah, same here," Ron agreed, grinning. "Me, you and Harry. The unstoppable trio."

"That has quite a ring to it," Hermione commented with a smile.

"We've already encountered a three-headed dog, and it's only the beginning," he said in the ridiculously deep voice of a television announcer. "What could possibly happen next?"

Hermione laughed. "The possibilities are endless."

And they were.

FIN


End file.
